Protège Moi
by Shotgun Betty
Summary: Darcy has been feeling increasingly detached from everything and everyone around her. She is left wondering if this is all there is. Strangely enough, her disaffected mood and new propensity for dangerous situations is what draws his attention to her.
1. It seems so small that it's easy to hide

Darcy sighed as she dropped her keys in the bowl by her apartment door. Another day wasted, tapping away, mindless data entry in the S.H.I.E.L.D. NYC offices. She'd been here in the city for almost 6 months, following Jane and Thor, upon the strong suggestion of Agent Coulson.

'Suggestion' she laughed weakly as she thought about the word. 'More like threat.'

The agent had been there as Jane packed up her labs in Albuquerque in preparation for the move to New York. Darcy was still working as Jane's assistant, though she'd graduated several months prior. Sure, astrophysics wasn't what she'd studied, but she felt at home with Jane and the lab and couldn't imagine trying to find a job away from them. She'd been sad when Jane had excitedly told her about the invitation to work in the S.H.I.E.L.D. labs, but was at the same time extremely happy for her friend. Jane's transfer would leave Darcy here in New Mexico housesitting.

Coulson had pulled her aside as she was helping carry a box out to the waiting van in front of Jane's. He'd offered her an opportunity to continue assisting Jane at her new facility. The government would even foot the moving expenses and provide her with housing in the city, close to the offices. As he rattled off the S.H.I.E.L.D. benefits, he'd dropped little hints here and there about the alternatives to the job offer, none of which sounded particularly freedom-rich. It was obvious that they felt she had seen too much, but they wouldn't be able to just make her disappear without finding themselves left with a very disgruntled Dr. Foster.

Not that it would have been particularly hard to convince Darcy to go. She had no family that she kept in contact with, and really no ties to Albuquerque, outside of Jane, to speak of. New York City was a prime location for a new start, especially with government funding. It had taken her less than six hours to pack her few belongings and secure them with the last of Jane's shipping crates.

Everything had seemed so exciting then. Half a year later Darcy found herself slogging daily through mountains of data. Manila folders brimming with sheaves of hand written notes littered her desk, occasionally collecting in little piles around her chair as well. When she'd been promised the job, she had envisioned Jane and herself in crisp white lab coats, efficiently taking notes on important looking experiments with a breath-taking view of skyline of New York just over their shoulders. Nothing had prepared her for the disappointment that she had walked in to.

Her cubicle, if one could call it that, barely had enough desk space for her monitor and mouse. She was sandwiched between filing cabinets and a support pillar. Her shoulders brushed both each time she left and returned to her desk. The broad expanses of floor to ceiling windows were also noticeably absent from her space. Located in the third level of sub-basement, Darcy felt as if she should don mining gear each time she stepped into the elevator in the morning.

In all seriousness, she could have dealt with her bait-and-switch job a lot more easily if Jane hadn't been almost completely absent since the relocation. Between fawning over her newly returned Space-God and whatever experiments S.H.I.E.L.D. had her engrossed in, Darcy had only seen Jane a handful of times in the past six months. Even then, she was normally so wrapped up in Thor or calculations, the visits hadn't really been all that fulfilling.

Darcy dropped her messenger bag next to the love seat as she made her way through the small apartment. It was a plus she supposed. She'd heard all manner of horror stories of young twenty-somethings living in what would equate to a small closet just to be able to say that they lived in the city. Her government appointed digs weren't deplorable. She had a small living area with a window that looked out onto a park, a serviceable kitchen with a bar that looked into the living space. Her bedroom that could hold a queen bed and she had managed to solve the lack of closet with some inventive shelving from Ikea. It was more than the average young adult with a job as mind numbing as hers could afford, and for that, she was thankful, but it still wasn't enough.

Clothing dropped in a trail behind her from the door as she made her way to the bathroom. She passed through the space like a ghost, quietly navigating the small expanse, leaving the lights off as she did. The bathroom had a small window above the antique claw foot tub that let in some light from the street. Still in the diffuse glow of the lamp outside, she turned the taps on and plugged the tub. As the water rose, Darcy sat quietly on the lid of the toilet, staring into the pooling water, her expression flat as her mind wandered.

It didn't take long for the tub to fill and she reached out, stopping the water. Steam rose from the water as she set her towel down within arm's reach. She didn't stop to test the water as she stepped in, slowly submerging herself. The water reached the tops of her shoulders and she let her head loll to the side against the lip of the tub. Her skin had gone rosy from the temperature and a few beads of sweat had broken out on her forehead, but she took no notice, instead staring into the dark hallway as she soaked.

She had only recently started to notice heaviness in her shoulders and chest each day as she left for work and returned in the evenings. Like the heroes that she technically worked with, it felt as if she had a mask of her own when she stepped inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. building. Perky and carefree Darcy obscured the leaden girl that Darcy felt taking over within. It slowly became obvious that this was as good as it was going to get for her. She couldn't leave S.H.I.E.L.D., not without finding herself tucked away in a secluded cell in some nameless facility. Coulson had made that much clear.

So it was that every morning Darcy turned the key and dropped the tumbler into place, her disguise wrapping itself around her, slowly tightening each day, suffocating her. She almost didn't seem to mind anymore, as memories of how she was, before she wore it every day, became ever more fuzzy. Even when she was once more safely behind her apartment door with no need to hide and she could finally let the mask drop away, it felt as if there was another just beneath it, gently pushing down the person she was just months ago.

Darcy bent her legs and let her body slide further into the tub, its waters brushing the bottom of her nose. It felt so strange, foreign even, to see herself changing. It was as if her soul had disconnected from her body and she was watching as her form clicked over into some kind of drone-like autopilot.

'That must count for something. If I can recognize that something's wrong, then I can't be that bad off, right?' She waited patiently as she posed the question in her mind. Nothing came back, not as if she thought something would though. Frustrated with her own silence, she let the rest of her head slip beneath the still hot water.


	2. I know I'm maladjusted

The clouds had grown darker as Darcy walked the few blocks to the office. People were scurrying along the sidewalks, pushing by her in annoyance, umbrellas in hand, anticipating the downpour to come and trying to get inside the buildings before rain ruined their suits and makeup.

Time was moving at half speed for her as she returned to work. She had gotten dressed and ready in a daze this morning, barely registering what she'd left in. She'd forgotten her umbrella. Without so much as a sigh of regret at the realization, she simply gripped the strap of her messenger bag that crossed her chest with both hands and trudged forward.

The sky was almost black when she stood in front of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, expressionless, staring at the mass of glass and steel rising before her. She felt a pang of sadness when she realized that she wouldn't get to watch the rain on the window today. That would require an actual window. A fat drop of water landed on her slightly upturned face, splattering across the bridge of her nose. Shaking her head quickly, she moved toward the building doors.

* * *

Darcy struggled to keep her "attentive and interested" face on for the guy who had been hanging over the wall of her cubicle for the past 45 minutes talking to her. She recognized him from a few rows over, and had passed him in the halls a few times, though she was still a little fuzzy on what his name was. He was talking animatedly about his morning, having accompanied some assistant director of something to a press conference. He had apparently written parts of the press release. She nodded occasionally as he expressed his excitement over being in public as an employee of S.H.I.E.L.D. His mother was ecstatic. She'd begun to wonder what she had done to warrant such an enthusiastic and detailed visit and what was it going to end it. He was just out of her arm's reach, so it's not as if she could accidentally spill her now lukewarm coffee on him or possibly misjudge her placement and staple him to something. Resigned to just wait it out, she took a deep breath and renewed her smile, her jaw and cheek muscles crying out at the forced expression. Her eyes had started to glaze over as she let her mind go blank and she didn't notice the sudden break in his noise.

"Darcy!"

Startled, she snapped back to her body, now aware that he had come around the wall and was leaning against the desktop nearest her, peeking into her face. Blinking a few times, she smiled again at him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drift off on you there. I didn't sleep well last night and now this rainy weather. I don't know how I am even this alert." It was a lie, but he seemed to accept it, retreating from the space directly in front of her.

"So, like I was saying, do you think that you'd, you know, maybe want to get a drink or something tonight? I'm going out to celebrate with some of the guys on the floor and figured I'd ask if you wanted to come." He was looking at her earnestly now; hope that she would agree filling his face. She couldn't pinpoint exactly why she felt hesitant. Hell, this would be the highlight of the week if not month for her.

"Uh, sure. Where are you going to be?" grabbing a pen from the cup next to her monitor, she waited for the location. The edges between her mind and her actions were growing fuzzy, and she settled in, watching Darcybot take over. He figured they could walk over after work, but she got the address just in case, mechanically writing it down on the steno pad. He left his cell number with her and for a moment looked expectantly waiting for her to return the gesture. Darcybot hadn't picked up on that, or wasn't in the sharing mood, as she stared at him with an ever straining smile. He eventually got the hint and backed out of her "office", wrapping his knuckles on the desk as he left, repeating the time and place for drinks.

* * *

The noise in the bar was deafening, bodies crushing around the table that Darcy, Lyle and his friends had taken. The table was on its third round, while Darcy held back, still nursing a now very warm Old Fashioned. Arms occasionally jostled her as the crowd seethed. Tonight was some kind of trivia event, drunken office workers from the surrounding neighborhood all shouting answers and cheering on their teammates.

Staring into her drink, she pushed the small stir stick around the glass with her middle finger, not even bothering to feign attention for the table's conversation. She didn't know why she had even come. Even here amongst the crowd and energy, she felt numb and exhausted. Excusing herself, she wound her way through the mass to the bathroom in the back.

Darcy squinted as the fluorescents overhead flickered. Blue grey light filled the tiled room, casting a gloomy haze over it all. She sat her purse on a sink and stared into the scummy mirror. On a whole, she still looked pleasant. Her makeup had held up throughout the day and now the evening, and her hair looked about the same. She stood there for a moment just staring back at herself, expressionless. The light had gone out from her eyes and she couldn't manage to kindle even the smallest spark of energy or interest.

Sighing, she leaned her forehead against the mirror. The cool glass was comforting, but her head still swam with the ever-increasing doubts and confusion. Lifting her head slightly, she stared at herself again.

'Is this really all there is? The drones work hard before they die for their pretty little homes?' Roughly pushing away from the mirror she spun on her heel to leave the room.

"I can't do this"

She made her way back to the table, where it was obvious that the guys had ordered another round in her absence. Thanking Lyle for the invitation, she threw back her fresh drink and made her excuses for home.

* * *

A cool breeze blew through the trees in the park, rustling leaves along the ground and sending a chill through Loki as he stood there. After his fall from the BiFrost he had been weak and trapped here on Midgard. His magic had vanished with his injuries, but then, as his body regained its former strength, so to did his power. He had made his way across this realm, slowly gaining the ability to teleport further and further. News had reached him that his brother was residing on the Eastern Coast, in New York City, with his woman and the group that had once tried to contain him.

He had appeared in the city a few days ago, terrifying a homeless man who saw him into a stupor. Surveying the city as he wandered, Loki reflected fondly upon his plans for pain and destruction. If Asgard was out of his reach for now, Midgard would suffice in the interim.


	3. In a heartbeat

Loki wrinkled his nose, holding his hand to it and his mouth, trying to ward off the stench hovering around the encampment he was passing through. Tents and ramshackle dwellings, if one could call them that, encompassed the park. He picked his way through the sea of cords and belongings covering the ground. He'd happened across the protesting humans as he strolled through the city surveying.

Rolling his shoulders back and stretching his arms out as he passed through, Loki felt his magic wrapping around him, little tendrils snapping outward eager to spread and infect. His brother was somewhere in this town, hidden away with his woman and the other heroes. He had yet to see Thor's team in action and was in the mood to stir up a little chaos to test their mettle.

His hand brushed against one of the dirtier humans shambling by him, his magic creeping down Loki's arm, over his thin fingers and across the man's shoulders. Wrapping around the man's neck, green mist flowed in through his nose and mouth. Loki stepped back, watching the man.

Twitches and spasms took over the man's upper body as the magic took hold. Materials in the man's hands clattered to the ground as his breathing increased and his hands curled in tightly. A woman with matted hair passed, chattering excitedly with another occupant of the camp. With no warning, the man lashed out, grabbing the woman's hair and using the momentum to sling her to the ground. She cried out as he set upon her, landing kicks to her torso and arms as she attempted to block his blows. Her conversation partner stood by in horror as the man grew more frenzied.

Men from nearby ran over and trying to restrain him, pulling at arms, legs, any part of his person that they could. Managing to break the man away from is target. The group of men surrounded the man, forming a barrier. Loki frowned as the humans just stood there. He sent an extra push of magic forward, seizing the man again. His head whipped back as his body flooded with the chaos magic. Two men pushed forward and grabbed the man's arms trying once more to restrain him. The man thrashed harder, snarling, spittle flying from his mouth. Just as quickly as the men made contact with the wild man, they dropped his arms, telltale green sparks moving along their forms, spasms taking over their bodies.

Within moments, Loki's magic had taken over the immediate area. Every bit of contact between the humans served as an arcing point for his power, unlocking the pent up aggression that he'd felt in the group. The violence took the camp like a wave, cries and the sounds of fighting growing in volume. Straightening his scarf, Loki strolled casually through the growing hostilities, the corner of his mouth turning up.

Standing atop some steps, he watched as the humans tore at each other, intent on destroying everything in their path. Now he just had to sit back and wait for his brother and his band of merry men to arrive. Not that there was much that they could do here. The magic he'd loosed on the crowd only amplified the existing anxieties and aggressions in the humans. Once the pitiful things had worked through their issues, the magic would have nothing left to feed, and they would return to their previous mindset. Or they would die in the process. Either way, his experiment would be successful. Loki knew that his brother had no control over magic, nor did any of his compatriots, so their lot would be powerless against the pumped up basal instincts of the humans before them.

He smiled down at the roiling mass of flesh he had created. A spray of warm fluid splattered across his face. He casually wiped a finger through the patch, his digit coming away red. Chuckling as he rubbed the blood between his thumb and fingers, a sense of pleasure spread through him. He'd had no idea that Midgardians would be so simple to incite and control. And there were so many of them, cramped into such small spaces here, the slightest effort on his behalf would bring a city, and possibly his brother, to its knees.

He couldn't help the dark smile that spread across his face as he watched his bloodied and broken masses.

"Oh, I am dearly going to enjoy this."


	4. A dark wind blows

Breaking free of the crowd in the bar, the cool evening air was a shock to Darcy's dulled senses. She could feel the liquor moving through her system, warming some parts and fuzzing others. She pulled her scarf and jacket closer to her and set off in the direction of home.

The bar was a couple of blocks from the offices in the opposite direction from her apartment, putting her about 30 to 45 minutes walking distance from her front door. Not that she minded. Darcy found fall evenings in the city rather pleasing. After spending most of her adult life in New Mexico, the East Coast's change of seasons was novel. It was on nights like these that she could almost feel herself breaking through the membrane of the haze that had surrounded her.

She could process things more clearly on nights like these, walking home alone, through the busy yet quiet city. Most of the tourists and business people were gone by this time of night, leaving only residents of the island of Manhattan behind. Passing through the dimly illuminated streets, she reflected upon all of the activity around her in her current life. Seeing everyone else's success and happiness, she likened herself to a bit of wood jammed between two rocks in a river after an intense storm; the rest of the world rushed around her, never actually heeding her obstructive presence, but bearing down upon her and forcing her out of the flow nonetheless. Eventually, she would break free of her anchor and be swept away in the current of everything else around her.

Looking up, Darcy realized that she'd strayed from her planned route home, the buildings around her looming dark and unfamiliar. She stopped and pulled out her phone to try and get her bearings.

"God damnit" she muttered, angling her phone, trying to combat the screen's dimness and the surrounding gloom. "I would get lost on the one street in this freaking city that has, like, eight lights out."

The map of the city finally loaded, the screen brightening as it did.

"Jesus, how drunk am I?" she asked aloud, realizing that she was at least 12 blocks east in the wrong direction. Shoving her phone back under the flap of her messenger bag, she trudged forward, once more with the destination of her bathtub in mind.

Something metallic rang out as it clattered down the sidewalk, falling into the gutter. Gripping her bag closer to her, Darcy picked up her pace slightly, her hand quietly moving into her bag, rummaging for her taser. Another block passed as she hurried along, trying her best to appear casual.

Despite the possible impending danger, everything happening was still filtered through Darcy's growing disgust with the world and her place in it. A chill ran along her spine and she stopped, turning to look behind her.

A gloved hand reached out and grabbed her lapel, roughly shoving her back against the edge of a building. Darcy grunted as the wind was knocked from her lungs. She pressed both hands against the building to steady herself, a combination of alcohol and brunt force disorienting her.

* * *

Loki sat by as the human police force arrived and made attempts to subdue the crowds. The entire protest encampment had succumbed to his magic's urging. The carnage had stayed fairly contained to the small park, with few other citizens passing the area. Eventually, more forces had joined, faces masked and armor covering their forms.

This final wave of human enforcement had brought with them a small contingent of the Avengers squad; an armored man capable of flight and one wrapped in the human's nationalist colors. Assessing the situation, the armored humans worked to corral the dissidents, pushing the masses back with shields and gasses. The armored Avenger shot netting and other small non-invasive measures in an effort to control the mass.

Seeing that his brother had not deigned to grace them with his presence, Loki grew bored. With a thought, he called back the magics he had sent out and filled the mortals with. A rush of green poured from the mouths of those infected and flowed over the ground back to Loki. He smiled and winked at the two Avengers, as recently freed bodies collapsed in heaps. The flying one made a gesture as if preparing to engage Loki. Pulling the last of his power in, Loki made himself invisible and teleported several streets over, leaving the aftermath of his evening's entertainment behind him.

Hands pushed into the pockets of his pea coat, Loki leisurely strolled away from the riotous mess he'd created. The exercise had been quite invigorating and its results gloriously bloody.

Smiling to himself, he walked through the streets, a spring in his step. Thor had no idea what was in store for him and everything he held dear.

Loki admired the towering masses of metal and glass stretching upward into the night sky. He laid a hand against a building and leaned in close, the cool material against his cheek.

"Oh my lovely city. Enjoy this respite. Soon, all of this shall be mine. These are truly your last days," he whispered as he thought of his coming reign. Pushing away, a grunt echoed down the pathway between the buildings, catching his attention.

He stepped away from the corner, entering the alley, watching the scuffle occurring at the opposite end. A scraggly man had shoved a young woman against the building and appeared to be in the process of robbing her. Something about the humans involved piqued his interest, and Loki watched quietly as the scene played out before him.

The woman was standing straighter now, with an unimpressed expression. Obviously angered by her unwillingness to show fear, the man lashed out, a small knife in his hand. The woman cried out as the weapon just barely made contact, slicing the skin along her cheekbone. Slouching down against the wall, a hand covering her face, Loki heard not whimpers or sobs, but angry expletives issuing forth from her.

A spark of amusement flared to life as Loki recognized one of the women from the encounter between Thor and the Destroyer. Smiling slightly, he reveled in his incredible fortune stumbling upon someone so close to his brother. He inferred that she must have traveled from the desert here to the city with his brother and the woman. Seeing a brilliant opportunity to further weaken his brother, Loki decided to intercede, saving the woman and, in theory, ingratiating himself with her, opening even more avenues to his brother.

Moving closer, Loki altered his appearance, causing him to appear slightly winded and flushed, as if he'd run some distance to aid her. He neared the two as the man reached in once more to grab her.

* * *

"Fucking fuck, fuck, fuck..." Pain shot through Darcy's head as she pressed her hand to the cut. It didn't feel big, but it hurt like a motherfucker. The street swam in front of her as she opened her eyes.

She glared up at the man, taking in his ratty coat and unwashed appearance.

'Of course. I'm being mugged at grime-infested knifepoint. I'm probably going to get blood poisoning from this fucking cut.' Darcy's thoughts were racing as she processed the situation. She shoved her hand into her bag once more as she cowered against the wall, hoping that her attacker interpreted her actions as digging for a wallet or valuables. Wrapping her fingers around the smooth plastic box conveniently wedged in the absolute bottom of her bag, she felt a rush of relief. There was no fucking way she was letting this go down without a fight.

Before she had a chance to launch herself at the man, he'd reached out and grabbed her arm again. For someone who looked as if he'd been on a yearlong bender, her mugger was surprisingly strong. He dragged her upright against the wall once more, leaning in closer, his face almost touching hers. Gagging slightly as she got a lungful of fetid breath, she gently slid her hand out of her messenger bag. He was fairly focused on pinning her one arm while threatening her with his knife in the other hand, leaving her right arm, for the most part, free.

Darcy held back a wave of nausea as the mugger ground his body against hers, sniggering as he did. She knew that there would only be one opportunity for her to extricate herself from this with as little damage as possible and she was ready. He pulled back from her a fraction, enough to get a good leer in and Darcy struck.

Shoving her right arm through the gap between them, she pressed the button on her taser, activating it moments before she drove it up and against the man's throat and jaw. A strangled scream tore from his throat as the current passed through him. His eyes rolled back into his head as his form went slack, falling over onto Darcy. She shoved at the body as she extricated herself from beneath the unconscious and convulsing weight.

Surveying the damage she'd wrought, the taser fell from her hand, fingers gone limp. Nausea swept through her and she hit her knees, dirty puddle water soaking through her tights. Unable to control her body's response, Darcy fell forward onto her hands, retching. Footsteps sounded to her right and she tensed, still powerless against her body's heaves.

"Excuse me, but are you alright? Can I do anything?" A soft masculine voice made its way through the fog settling over Darcy's mind. An accent.

Coughing and wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her jacket, she rocked back onto her heels and looked over at the voice. A tall thin man stepped forward slowly; hands splayed and extended in front of him. He had dark hair and sharp features, which were currently softened by furrows of concern. Not trusting her voice just yet, she nodded and hunched over in exhaustion.

The man came forward, squatting down beside her, a tentative hand resting on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry I couldn't have made it down here any faster. I heard you from the opposite end there and ran." He smiled apologetically, puffing from exertion, his pale face flushed.

Taking a few deep shuddering breaths, Darcy made to stand up. The man held out a hand to help, his other still resting on her shoulder, steadying her. He bent and retrieved both her fallen taser and her bag, wordlessly offering them to her.

"You'll have to excuse me, I, uh, I've never been around something like this before." His voice was light and once again apologetic, his subtle accent softening his words. His presence was somehow soothing.

"Well, I can see that you've had a bit of a fright here, so I won't worry about introductions too much. Can I see you to where you were going? Or at very least accompany you to a shop or police station?" As he spoke, he had taken Darcy's arm and gingerly guided her around her unconscious attacker, toward the street. He stopped as they stepped out of the alley and into the now lit sidewalk.

Darcy stared at him, exhausted, the adrenaline surge from before dissipating. His dark hair was slicked back, a few errant strands falling into his face, presumably from his run. He smiled awkwardly as she continued to stare at him, processing everything.

"Yeah," she croaked out, "that would be nice actually. I was heading home and got lost." She shouldered her bag and slipped the taser back into its depths.

"Oh, myself as well. I've only just moved here and wanted to look about the neighborhood a bit." His tone brightening as they walked along.

Darcy turned to look at him under the streetlight as they waited for the crosswalk. He smiled softly again. She liked the way his eyebrows perked when he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, giving him a mischievous air.

The light changed and Darcy turned her head toward him, indicating their crossing.

Gently reaching out as they stepped onto the curb once more, he turned her chin with a thin pale finger.

"Your, uh, your cheek..." he trailed off as he looked down, searching his pockets for something. Darcy stood silently, watching as he fumbled through his jacket. Finally, his head shot up once more, smiling. He reached up and dabbed at the cut on her cheekbone with a white handkerchief.

Hissing at the contact, Darcy involuntarily pulled back, "Yeah, I dunno how I forgot that. Hurts like a bitch."

She gave him a half-hearted smirk as she took the fabric from him, holding it to her wound.

They walked on for a while in silence, Darcy somehow finding her way back to familiar surroundings. Despite a mugging and minor assault, she didn't feel terrible. Tired, yes, but also almost weightless at the same time. She followed the streets and landmarks a while longer until they had arrived at her building's door.

Stopping within sight of the doorman, she turned to him, handing his handkerchief back.

"Thanks, for you know, watching me puke and walking me home. Really not my finest hour, but you've been really sweet about it."

Shaking his head, he smiled, "Oh, no, no, you keep that. I have countless others. I'll write it off as a sacrifice to the god of being lost."

Chuckling softly, Darcy nodded her thanks and turned to walk into the building. She hesitated as she pulled the door open, propping it against her hip and looking back onto the sidewalk.

"Hey, um thanks again, really." She ducked her head and turned once more to enter the building, realizing that she hadn't even given her name. 'Shit. Real smooth Darc...'

Leaving the entryway once more, she pushed outside and jogged the few feet to catch up to his retreating form. Reaching out, she lightly touched his shoulder and moved to face him, "So this didn't come up, what with me completely lacking social graces, but my name's Darcy. Maybe I'll see you around the city sometime."

"Darcy. A lovely name." She shuddered at the way he said her name, like a whisper, "I'm Lucien." He took her hand in his, his mouth quirking as he smiled over her knuckles, "I shall look for you the next time I find myself lost in the night, dear Darcy." He placed a light kiss on her hand and turned to watch her enter her building.


	5. I'm not sure what I'm lookin for anymore

Word of the mugging had spread quickly through the S.H.I.E.L.D. offices, and by that afternoon, Jane had wandered down into the dungeon to Darcy's cube. Darcy endured several moments of cooing and tsking from Jane as she examined her injuries from the night before. In addition to the cut along the top of her cheekbone, she had some bruising under her eye and scratches and cuts littered her hands and knees. Surprisingly enough, she really didn't feel that terrible, but she assumed her outward appearance said otherwise.

Before she realized what was happening, Jane was pulling from her desk and out to lunch.

* * *

Darcy carried her drink and sandwich to the table Jane had claimed for them and dropped down into the wire chair. Unwrapping her chicken salad sandwich, she took a bite, glancing up occasionally to meet Jane's gaze as she chattered on about the new lab and how Thor was acclimating to living with her here in the city. The conversation all kind of blurred together, blending into the background noise of the cafe. After a solid twenty minutes of Jane talking without pause, Darcy felt her eyes go unfocused as her mind drifted to other more interesting topics.

A dark head materialized in her mind's eye, the slightly shaky smile that had made more than once appearance last night following close behind. She couldn't quite remember what color his eyes had been. Green, or possibly blue, she couldn't be entirely sure. The pleasant lightness she'd felt as they'd walked back to her building arose again, triggering a soft smile. She couldn't pinpoint why she'd felt it or where the feeling had come from and before she could delve any further into contemplation she felt Jane's hand shaking her. Pulling out of her thoughts, Darcy looked across the table quickly, seeing that Jane had a vaguely concerned look on her face.

"Sorry, I was just lost thinking about everything that's happened lately. Last night kinda left an impact." She smiled apologetically and finished off the last of her sandwich.

"Oh, no, it's alright. I can imagine. I don't think anybody's going to get any kind of mugging ideas while I'm out. Not now that Thor is home, thank goodness." Jane's expression struck Darcy as a bit dopey as she once again pulled the focus of conversation to herself.

"So, like I was saying, Natasha suggested that we go out for dinner and drinks for my birthday and I had already figured you'd come, but I've just been so busy that I've completely forgotten to check and make sure that you'll be free, cause I really want you to come out with us and meet some of the other women from the research levels…"

Jane sucked in a large breath and looked as if she was going to continue. Cutting her off at the pass, Darcy nodded along.

"Yeah, of course. I wouldn't miss going out on your birthday for the world!"

Even as the words left her lips, she felt something twist inside, annoyance flaring up, reminding her that her own birthday celebration had been two months ago, but everyone invited had either flaked or couldn't make it due to pressing work in the labs. She'd spent her birthday dressed up, alone, and with a bottle of bourbon in her apartment.

'_Of course everyone would remember Thor's girlfriend's birthday._' Taking a deep breath and pushing aside the burgeoning feeling of resentment, Darcy smiled back at Jane once more, grabbing her purse and standing.

"I should probably get back, I still have a mountain of notes to transcribe and I didn't really tell anyone I was stepping out for lunch."

Jane looked confused for a moment, obviously having very few administrative constraints on her time and presence in the S.H.I.E.L.D. offices. Darcy bent to collect her trash from their lunch. Jane hopped up immediately, grabbing her own papers and cup and walking with Darcy as she made her way to the bins by the exit.

Leaving the cafe, Jane threw an arm around Darcy's shoulders and leaned her head against Darcy's shoulder in an uncharacteristic display of affection. Unsure of what to do, Darcy simply patted Jane's hand and continued to walk back in the direction of the offices.

"I'm so glad I caught you today, Darc. It feels like it's been weeks since we've gone out and just gotten lunch and chatted." Jane beamed at her as she pulled away.

"Yeah, it does." Darcy agreed. '_Feels like you've been gone for weeks, or months even, but hell, who's keeping track?'_

* * *

Loki stretched as he waited in Darcy's cubicle. He'd been following her since she'd entered her building the previous evening, observing.

He'd watched as she dropped her bag on the floor and shed layers of clothing as she walked through the darkened rooms. He had perched on her sink beside her as she let the bath fill, thick steam clinging to his skin. She had changed abruptly from the woman he'd encountered on the street. She seemed to have lost herself between his departure and her dwelling's door. He smiled thoughtfully, her emptiness just begging for someone to swoop in and fill it up.

Loki couldn't even begin to explore how pleased by this and last night's events. Not only had he caused a bit of chaos for his brother's companions while testing the returning strength of his magic, but he had also stumbled across this brilliantly unhappy girl with ties to Thor and his woman.

Following her to the S.H.I.E.L.D. offices this morning, he'd expected for her to connect with Thor's woman or at least come in contact with someone of importance. It had then, been a disappointment when he followed her into the depths of the building, deep beneath the street level, only to find that she was hidden away in a sea of containers, each one housing an equally unhappy looking drones.

He'd kept a casual eye on Darcy as he strolled through the level, causing little mishaps every so often. Several of the box dwellers had seen Darcy's injuries when she arrived and were busily gossiping with each other, some even using the communications systems on the desks to speak to other floors in the building. Loki had plagued them the most, making bottoms of mugs shatter and spill hot beverages on laps, bursting pens in pockets, breaking a heel on two different ladies' shoes. Subtle waves of anger and frustration were rising from his end of the floor, the workers growing more and more irritable as their mornings filled with petty annoyances.

He was waiting for a buxom woman who had been particularly scathing when stating her hypothesis behind Darcy's cut to return to her desk, where he had sealed all of her metal cabinets shut and melted the screws in her swiveling chair. Spotting her near the lift that had carried him and Darcy to the floor earlier, he teleported himself to just beside her, intending to badger her the entire walk back to her seat. She was bent over whispering to another woman with a larger tabletop than the rest of the workers. He grew impatient waiting for her to return and was contemplating how to best get her attention when the lift's doors dinged and slid open, revealing Thor's woman inside.

Loki's eyes lit up in excitement, busty bully forgotten. He sent himself back to Darcy's desk, knowing it to be the woman's destination. Darcy was quietly tapping away at her machine, little white and black cords leading from her ears to the green device in her lap. As Thor's woman rounded a corner, approaching, Loki reached out and gently brushed the nape of Darcy's neck, sending images from last evening through the contact. Smirking when he saw Darcy's shoulders relax ever so slightly, her hands stilling and her gaze drifting from the screen.

Thor's woman reached the desk to find Darcy quiet and staring off into the distance. She called Darcy's name as she entered the enclosed space, gently touching her shoulder as she did. A frown furrowed her brow as she called Darcy once more, this time shaking her shoulder. With a gasp, Darcy pulled out of the daydream, yanking the wires from her ears and spinning around to see who was there. Upon seeing the woman, the tension in Darcy's body drained fractionally.

'_Strange that. She's hesitant with someone I'd presumed a close friend.' _Loki reclined on the small desk as he watched the women.

"Oh, Jane, it's you. Sorry, I'm a bit jumpy. Guess I kind of zoned out there." Darcy apologized and wrapped the wires around her device, laying it aside.

'_So it's Jane. Jane and Thor. How incredibly dull the pairing sounds.' _Loki listened as Jane prattled on about the story she'd heard about Darcy's attack. She cooed and scowled as she examined the wound, Darcy enduring it, for the most part, silently. Her succinct and strained answers to Jane's questioning swallowed up in Jane's excitement. It was as if the woman had never seen the victim of a simple mugging before. Loki rolled his eyes as the woman dominated the conversation, barely leaving time for Darcy to reply. He barely contained sighs of exasperation as things dragged on. He could see Darcy beginning to lose interest and drift off as well.

Suddenly, Jane tugged Darcy up and out of the cube, marching her toward the lift, talks of lunch and "catching up" drifting back as they left. Loki followed the women as they left the building and purchased food and sat. For the next hour, Jane talked about her research on the BiFrost and wormholes, helping with the "you know whos" initiative and gushed disgustingly about her newly renewed relationship with Thor.

'_How can she listen to this incessant prattling? I would have sewn her lips shut ages ago'_ Glancing beside him, he took in Darcy's almost lifeless stare and Jane's complete obliviousness. He leaned over and brushed his lips along the shell of Darcy's ear, whispering her name, triggering another series of images, and sending a shiver through her.

Content to derail any of Jane's discussion, he watched as the people passed through with their food. Out of boredom, he spoiled the egg mixture they were spreading on bread as he waited for the meeting to end.

His ears perked when Jane once more called Darcy out of her daydream, and described plans to celebrate her birth soon. He saw a slight scowl twist Darcy's mouth and laid his hand on her neck, listening to her thoughts. A scene of Darcy sitting alone in a short dress in her apartment filled his mind. She was watching some kind of play on her machine and nursing a bottle of dark liquid, a defeated slump in her shoulders as she flicked through messages on her... phone she'd called it last night... phone, all expressing regrets and providing excuses for absences. Loki could feel the sadness and resentment welling up with these images. Taking his hand away, Loki stood and left the women; sure that nothing of import would occur.

Leaving the shop, he set out to learn more about his city and Midgardian courting customs. If he was going to fill this disenchantment and tie Darcy to him, he was determined to do it correctly.


	6. Let me control the things you think

Violence in the city had seen a sudden uptick in the week following the riots in Zuccotti Park. Small events scattered over the island, stirring its residents and cultivating a low current of unease among all those present in Manhattan. Police patrols had increased in an attempt to stave off incidents and alerts and reminders were going out through the media for everyone to remain calm and vigilant as the city's atmosphere charged with an invisible roiling energy.

Despite the numerous warnings and violent outbreaks, the nightlife of the city remained largely unchanged. The young and beautiful could not be bothered with depressing reports of rioting in the financial district. Happy hours and terrace bars were as always packed to almost overflowing and lines still stretched in front of nightclub entrances. If anything, it could be said that the intensity of the young social scene had increased, drawing out the most unlikely participants.

Darcy smiled faintly as Jane whooped and shimmied about as she stood next to the bar, waiting for the round of shots Natasha had ordered. Normally such a reserved homebody type, Darcy was shocked when Jane had demanded that the group follow up a fairly sedate dinner with an excursion to a nearby club. It was unclear if Jane had even set foot in a nightclub before and Darcy was fairly sure that she had never taken shots of liquor. She dismissed her confusion and wrote Jane's exuberant behavior off as a result of her reunion with both science and Thunderpants.

The bartender set eight small tumblers in front of the women and filled them with very expensive tequila. Not normally a tequila drinker, Darcy had grimaced when she'd overheard Natasha order; however, she wasn't going to turn down any drinks on her road to drunken social tolerance. Clubs had never held much interest for Darcy, but as of late, any situation that placed her in cramped quarters with other human beings was akin to torture in her mind.

She raised her glass, mirroring Natasha's salute to Jane and quickly tossed back the liquid. She watched as Jane struggled to finish the glass, taking several gulps rather than downing it in one motion. The entire situation seemed mildly out of character, but Jane appeared to be happy so she dismissed the odd feeling she had. Taking advantage of Natasha's open tab at the bar, Darcy ordered two more shots of the same liquor. She was here for Jane, but that didn't mean that she couldn't drown her discomfort. The tequila was already filling her limbs with a pleasant warm sensation and she was fairly sure that an additional two shots would push her well past uncomfortable and firmly into not caring. Stuffing a tip in the bartender's jar, she threw back one shot and then the other and pushed her way into the crowd. Time to get her blood flowing and help her body distribute the alcohol in her stomach.

She checked her phone for any message from Lucien that she might have missed as she made her way into the writhing masses. The screen was blank. No messages or calls missed.

"Damn." She cursed as she turned the screen off once more and stowed her phone between her breasts once more.

Lightness had begun to spread throughout her limbs, tingles traveling along her fingers. Her smile was lopsided as closed her eyes as she raised her arms over her head, turning off the part of her mind that worried and allowing her body to move with the music unfettered.

* * *

Loki had followed the women throughout the night. Discontent to remain hidden for the entire jaunt, he had altered his appearance and occasionally made contact with the group during their dinner. Thor's woman, Jane, was celebrating her birth. The large group that she had assembled consisted entirely of S.H.I.E.L.D. workers, Darcy and one other woman. She was not like the assistants that Jane had invited and nothing like Darcy. Her eyes were cold, despite the soft and warm expression she turned to Jane and the group. He could smell the oil of metal on her and knew that she was armed.

'_Could she have been sent as bodyguard for Jane?'_ he wondered as he watched their interactions. She was congenial, but withdrawn, her responses and mannerisms obviously an act. The other women appeared unaware or at very least unconcerned with her disingenuous manner.

Stepping out of view of the table he dropped his guise, cloaking himself to get a clearer read on the woman. He slid his hands into her short curly red locks, his touch barely more than a whisper against her flesh. She shivered slightly as he did and scanned the room for threats.

Loki smiled as she reluctantly returned to the conversation, his fingers flexing gently against her scalp as he delved into her mind. His smile broadened as he saw her interacting with his brother and other costumed men. There were spots of static in her mind, as if she had sustained some kind of damage or another had been inside tampering. This made seeing too far into her past difficult, but he was unconcerned with the tender memories of a childhood assassin. He was focused on the recent past, her actions within S.H.I.E.L.D. and her affiliation with Thor. She was an assassin for the organization and had a surprisingly obvious weak spot for a fellow costumed hero.

He pulled back after whispering a few suggestions to her and leaving the faintest trace of his magic inside of her body, creating a craving for physical contact and loosening the staunch inhibitions within her. His influence would spread to anyone she came into contact with as it did with his previous spell.

As he pulled away from the table, Darcy glanced up, staring directly at where he stood.

* * *

Darcy pushed through the bodies and made her way to the bar again. The amount of alcohol in her system was not nearly enough to tolerate the grinding and slamming of man parts against her. Jane was barely visible amongst the sea of people in the club. She could just barely see Natasha's head near Jane, dancing, but keeping a watchful eye all the same.

Ordering another tequila, Darcy's eyes scanned the room. She downed the tumbler as soon as it appeared in front of her. She rolled her neck, trying to release some of the tension that was invading her buzz. Making eye contact with the bartender, she tapped on the bar top for another. Finishing her second shot, she pushed away from the bar, turning back to the mass.

A soft hand touched her shoulder, keeping her from slamming into the man in front of her. Shocked, she looked up and met eyes with Lucien.

Smiling, he leaned in close, his lips next to her ear, "Are you following me?"


	7. Maybe I'll hold my breath& jump right in

A rushing filled Darcy's ears as she struggled to focus on the face so close to her own. The alcohol was fighting for control of her body and it was quickly winning. She instantly regretted the copious amount of tequila she could feel burning its way through every vein and capillary. _How could he even be here? Even worse, how could he be here while she was this drunk? _

She drew in a shaky breath and met his softly smiling gaze, her own field of vision quickly filling with dark spots along the periphery.

"Uh, hi." She closed her eyes and fought the intoxication to regain use of her body. Swallowing a hiccup and taking a deep breath she opened her eyes and looked at Lucien again. His brow had wrinkled slightly and she noticed his hand was gently supporting some of her faltering weight.

"What're you doing here?" Another hiccup rose in her chest and her mouth quickly filled with saliva. She was going to vomit.

He opened his mouth and moved closer so that she could hear him, but she put up a halting hand to stop him.

"I'll be right back." Darcy leaned in and clumsily brushed against his cheek and ear as she pushed by him. The women's restroom was nowhere to be seen and she could feel her body's grace period quickly fading. Darcy zeroed in on the line of chatting women and almost threw herself to the front. Angry protests died when the women caught Darcy's uneasy gait and fading color.

The floor was cold against her knees and she banged her head against the fixture in the stall. Darcy's torso pitched forward as she emptied the contents of her stomach and the world went black.

Her arms ached and her body felt chilled. Cautiously, Darcy cracked an eye open and took in the scene she'd created. She was slumped over a toilet in a bathroom stall, still very drunk, but she felt more in control of her body and slightly better. She pushed herself back against the stall door, taking a few deep shuddering breaths. There was no discernable mess before her and her clothes, while rumpled and now slightly moist with cold sweat, appeared to be clean. _Score one for blackout drunk self. _

She pushed herself up, standing unsteadily. She tidied the stall as best she could before taking a deep breath and walking out to the bank of mirrors and basins. Her makeup had survived for the most part. She was cleaning up a spot of eyeliner that had smeared when the woman next to her silently set a travel size mouthwash next to her. Looking up embarrassed, the woman flashed Darcy a kind knowing smile before exiting the restroom. Finishing her touch ups, she downed the bottle and spat, clearing the sour taste from her mouth and reapplied some lipstick.

She glanced once more as she left and shook her head. _I am a mess._

Darcy leant against the wall beside the bathroom entrance and regained her bearings. The club was still incredibly hot and packed. Jane and Natasha were nowhere to be seen. Making her way back to the bar she remembered leaving Lucien standing there mid-sentence. She scanned the bar for his face, considering running out of the club if he was still there. Her heart rate calmed some when she couldn't find him in the crowd. He must have thought she was blowing him off and left or rejoined his party.

She made her way back to her previous spot at the bar, flagging the bartender for a glass of water this go round. Disappointment weighed heavily on her shoulders as she gingerly sipped at her water. _Well, at least I didn't puke on him._

Rationalize as she might though, she knew that she'd probably blown her chance with the incredibly attractive stranger who had walked her home after a mugging and sent her flowers asking for dinner after. She wasn't surprised. Jane and Natasha had disappeared as soon as they had arrived at the club and the other women from the office had expressed no interest in socializing either.

_After seeing me in my natural state, why wouldn't Lucien beat a hasty retreat? Who would want to waste time on a social leper like herself? _ Darcy rested her head on the edge of the bar, working up the strength to leave the club and flag a cab home. _Maybe he'll run into Natasha. They're both exotic and attractive, that could work out for him._ She pushed herself upright and began to dig in her clutch for a tip for the bartender. There was no use sitting here, feeling sick and lamenting the man she'd almost vomited on. She had her bathtub at home. Maybe she'd even pass out in the heated water and drown, instantly fixing all of the awkward "Interacting with Darcy" problems.

Her stomach rolled when she stood up from the bar, making her grab at it for balance as the wave of nausea passed through her. _I should have just stayed at home. They shouldn't have made me come out. I'm not meant to be here with all of these people._

"Oh, Darcy, there you are. You had me worried."

Shock flooded her system as she turned and met eyes with Lucien for the second time this evening. She was thankful for the club's lighting and it's ability to hide the bright blush that was spreading across her skin. He was smiling at her and looked genuinely concerned. He had laid his fingers on her arm. His touch was incredibly cool and comforting against her heated flesh. She felt some of the tension unknot itself as she stared at him, gaping.

"Um," Her brain was locked. Words came flooding back to her as she finally managed to take in the moment.

"I'm, uh, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to run away like that." She felt as if the words were great unwieldy things and her mouth was unequipped to deliver them in any kind of eloquent form. Her smile was close-lipped and tight and she hoped that she didn't look like an idiot.

Lucien's smile broadened in return, his teeth flashing as his face relaxed. For a moment, it looked as if _he_ was embarrassed that she was apologizing. Darcy wasn't sure what to make of it. She stood staring at him for moment more before leaning in so that she could talk to him at a reasonable level.

"I was actually about to leave, I don't feel very well. My stomach and the tequila have forfeited their truce." Even in heels her mouth came to just below his jaw. In such close proximity, she noticed a subtle scent of fennel surrounding him. Unconsciously, she breathed deep, hesitating close to his throat a moment longer. Darcy pulled back quickly, her blush flaming even brighter. _I just smelled that man. He is going to think I am insane and will probably stalk him. _

Biting her lower lip, she looked back at him apologetically. She realized that his fingers were there when they moved and gently encircled her arm as he leaned in to respond. He said something and pulled back to meet her eyes for confirmation. Darcy felt herself smile shakily and nod. She was paralyzed. It felt as if her mind was tuned to a dead radio station, white noise obscuring everything. The weight of his hand on her bicep was the only thing she was aware of. She felt a pang of sadness when he released her arm, but that was eradicated when instead his hand slid across her back, tucking her against his side as he guided her back to her empty chair. Dazed, she climbed back atop her perch, still unaware of what she'd agreed to.

Lucien signaled to the bartender and ordered something. Darcy saw his lips move and smile in thanks. His chest was pressed against her bare shoulder and back. His body seemed to radiate coolness, even through the layers of his suit. Darcy felt herself relaxing back against him, surrendering her weight to his form as they waited for whatever it was he ordered. She didn't want to drink anymore, but if he gave it to her, she gladly would.

All of the cramps and aches she felt as a result of her earlier heaving were melting away as she sat pressed against him. He didn't seem to mind her resting there either, as Darcy was fairly sure that he had moved so that her more of her back could make contact with his chest and arm. He was talking to her while they waited, his breath whispering past her ear, but she had no idea what he was saying.

Her daze broke when he pressed his lips to the edge of her ear, asking if she was all right as he pressed a glass of murky liquid into her hand. Blinking rapidly to bring her eyes back into focus, Darcy savored the chill that had flooded her body when he'd spoken just now. She inclined her head to look at him questioningly.

"I don't know if I can drink anything else tonight, I'm really pretty spent." Her lips delivered the words as her mind railed at her for turning anything he offered down.

Lucien smiled again and his hand came to rest on her shoulder, his thumb brushing the base of her neck.

"You said you were feeling ill, and I told you I knew something that could help that. I promise you, there's no alcohol in it. It may not taste lovely, but if you sip it, your stomach should lay off a bit."

Darcy looked at him with mild suspicion, but she took a hesitant sip. Her face contorted as she swallowed and she cut her eyes at him.

"I said I felt sick. What is this? It tastes like it's going to make it worse." She complained, even as she took a few more sips between her words.

She felt his thumb move in the barest of touches as Lucien smiled and laughed. It was his turn to blush.

"I have to confess, this was a bit of a leap of faith on my part. I actually read about it recently in a magazine. It said that mixing a few drops of bitters and soda water would help settle the stomach. I've never tried it myself though, sorry." Darcy stared as he ducked his head in apology. In the back of her mind she realized that she didn't care what was in it or even what it did, if he gave it to her, she would drink it. As frightening as she knew it should be, the realization spawned feelings of comfort instead.

"Oh." She set the glass down, empty.

He looked at her questioningly, "So?"

"Oh, um," Darcy thought about it for a moment, taking inventory of her ailments, "yeah, actually, it does feel better." A pleasant calm spread through her as she said it.

She smiled as he perked up, a broad smile spreading across his face. A piece of hair had fallen from his combed back style, hanging down over his forehead. Without thinking, Darcy reached forward and brushed it back, momentarily startling him. Her hand lingered for a moment, testing the softness of the strand before she pulled it back. The noise and crowd was beginning to creep back into her senses, reminding her of where they were.

"So, I'm still not feeling great, but maybe you want to see if there's a place to get some coffee or something before I go home?" The question shocked Darcy as it left her mouth. _I almost vomited on this man and now I'm asking him to get a cup of coffee._ _I don't even know why he's here or whom he's with. Oh god. I've made an ass of myself. Maybe he didn't hear me._

Darcy was too busy berating herself to see Lucien lean in and press his lips against her ear. She almost fell off of her seat when he whispered that he'd love to.

He helped her down with a hand at the small of her back and offered her his elbow. They made for the exit when Darcy realized she should let Jane know that she was leaving. She didn't want anyone to overreact and assume she'd been mugged or kidnapped again and have SHIELD agents breaking into some small diner in the city, ruining her perfect coffee date.

"I've got to let my friends know I'm leaving!" She shouted as she gestured over to the group of women on the far side of the club. Lucien smiled and nodded understanding. She moved away, reluctant to let go of his arm. She felt a little silly, but she trailed her hand down his forearm, passing her fingertips over his as she pushed through the crowd.

Her gaze intent on Jane and Natasha, Darcy did not see the wisp of green arc between her fingers and Lucien's, as they broke apart.


	8. Reign

Darcy gestured for Jane's attention as she leaned in close, struggling to be heard over the din of the crowd. Her mouth brushed the shell of Jane's ear and a faint green haze snaked from between her parted lips. It clung to the light layer of perspiration on Jane's neck and chest, coiling around and up the column of her throat. It penetrated her skin and entered her system sending a wave of dizziness through Jane. Pupils dilate. She could feel every nerve ending as she breathed deep, her gaze unfocused and fuzzy. Her head lolled backward, eyes lazily scanning Darcy's face.

"I'm going to go home!" Darcy shouted, her hand resting on Jane's shoulder. Slowly, Jane nodded, every movement sending sparks of pleasure across her skin.

Natasha approached as Darcy pulled away, shooting her a clumsy salute. She gave a curt nod goodbye and sat with Jane. Still and quiet, Jane stared vacantly after Darcy's departure. Frowning, Natasha leaned in, her hand on Jane's shoulder, asking if she was all right.

Laying her hand over Natasha's, she smiled broadly and nodded. Even this slight contact sent shocks along Jane's body.

Standing abruptly, Jane pushed into the crowd.

"I need another drink!" she shouted, turning back to Natasha.

The Russian stared after her in bewilderment as the throng of gyrating bodies swallowed up the scientist. After a moment she too stood, intent on following. Her frustration grew as the crowd becomes increasingly difficult to move through and Jane moved ever further away.

The club had become less a gathering of people and more a roiling mass of hands and faces, bodies compressing as the music swelled. It was almost impossible to see Jane now, her head blending in with the other dancers. Frustrated with the obstruction, Natasha pushed more forcefully against the bodies in front of her.

A smiling sandy blond turned as she tried to move past, his arms snaking out to wrap around Natasha's torso. Fury burned in her veins at the invasion, but the crowd was so dense she could not maneuver her arm to strike him. Settling for a head-butt, she wriggled into a more advantageous angle. The blond swooped in for a sloppy kiss. She strained her neck back as far as the confines would allow, just barely breaking the seal of his lips on hers.

The mist that left his mouth flowed across the small chasm, filling her nose and mouth. A snarl disappeared as her senses flooded with the magic. Relaxed in the blond's arms, he swayed her in time with the music. The drums of the song creating explosions of light and color every time she blinked.

She opened her eyes again and her partner was gone, a lithe woman's arms taking his place. Natasha allowed her head to drop back against the newcomer's shoulder. The tempo increased as one song segued into another. _I could stay like this forever. _

The nagging little voice in her head demanding that she go and fight and protect grew more and more faint until it was nothing more than the barest whisper.


End file.
